


hit it like you own it (i'mma hit it like i'm on it)

by loveontherocks



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, M/M, Spanking, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 17:51:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6019513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveontherocks/pseuds/loveontherocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It’s only a few minutes until Jordan will climb the stairs, find Liam in the bedroom. Jordan’s skin will smell like sweat and exertion, he’ll be dirty, and isn’t that Liam’s favorite? When Jordan comes home and he’s a mess, and Liam will only want to make him dirtier. Fuck showering when he could be dicking Liam down into the bed, on the floor, in the kitchen, on the balcony, where there aren’t neighbors for miles and Liam can scream out all he wants; Jordan likes it anyway, and Liam knows it, when he drives his hips against Liam’s, when he’s fucked in real deep and Liam feels like he can’t breathe. Yes, he knows Jordan likes it when there are scratch marks down the expanse of Jordan’s back when he’s got practice; silent bragging that he sure can fuck someone until they feel the need to claw their fingers into his skin. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	hit it like you own it (i'mma hit it like i'm on it)

**Author's Note:**

> some more payneton smut. at this point i have no morals.
> 
> title comes from rihanna's "sex with me".
> 
> i don't own anything, etc. 
> 
> thanks to steph for the beta work, but ultimately, all mistakes are my own. please enjoy!

For the most part, Liam knows he’s pretty lucky.

It isn’t luck, though, when Liam hears the front door open; he stubs the cigarette out where he’s smoking on the balcony that leads straight into his bedroom. He waits for a moment, knows what’s coming and there’s a feeling that crawls up his spine and back down again, creating a simmering puddle of heat that settles right behind the tightness of his navel. He’s reminded of the way he stretched himself open just a little while ago, pushed a pretty glass plug into himself to keep him ready for Jordan.

It’s only a few minutes until Jordan will climb the stairs, find Liam in the bedroom. Jordan’s skin will smell like sweat and exertion, he’ll be dirty, and isn’t that Liam’s favorite? When Jordan comes home and he’s a mess, and Liam will only want to make him dirtier. Fuck showering when he could be dicking Liam down into the bed, on the floor, in the kitchen, on the balcony, where there aren’t neighbors for miles and Liam can scream out all he wants; Jordan likes it anyway, and Liam knows it, when he drives his hips against Liam’s, when he’s fucked in real deep and Liam feels like he can’t breathe. Yes, he knows Jordan likes it when there are scratch marks down the expanse of Jordan’s back when he’s got practice; silent bragging that he sure can fuck someone until they feel the need to claw their fingers into his skin.

When Jordan walks into the bedroom, he’s the picture of an athlete; jersey still on, dirt on his face marking the pretty brown color of Jordan’s skin. He’s got pink cheeks and lips Liam knows will taste a little bit like sweat. Wow, Liam knows he’s really lucky, when he walks up to Jordan, hands on his shoulders, steering Jordan to the bed and climbing on his lap.

“Not even a hello, huh?” Jordan mutters, but Liam can hear the amusement, can feel the rumble of laughter when Liam presses his chest against Jordan’s. Liam’s already busy, licking away the dried up sweat from Jordan’s neck, sucking on the flesh over the strong pulse of Jordan’s heart.

“Hi, honey, did you have a good day?” Liam appeases, but he’s grinning himself, thighs tightening on either side of Jordan’s hips when Jordan gets his hands on Liam’s ass. Hands so big, Liam can’t think properly when they’re touching him, can’t think about anything but where Jordan’s going to touch him next, where he’s going to sear Liam’s skin, grip and leave bruises, dance his fingertips. It just steals all the air from Liam’s lungs, leaves him truly breathless, just a little whimper that resonates in the bedroom, echoes off the glass of the mirrors set up everywhere.

“I did, better now that I’m home,” Jordan says, pulling Liam close, tipping his head back, and Liam thanks him with the tip of his tongue running over his jugular. Liam could list his favorite parts of a man, of Jordan, and this is one of them, the softness of flesh underneath the mercy of his teeth. Liam grips Jordan’s shoulders and then drags his hands down the length of Jordan’s back to tug at the hem of the jersey and pull it off.

“Want you,” Liam says. And that’s nothing new. Liam always wants Jordan, wants him like this, locked away in their bedroom, just the two of them and hot flesh, desperate moaning, the smack of skin against skin too loud in Liam’s ears. Just this, the two of them and Liam’s hands on Jordan’s skin, touching everywhere he can reach, teasing with the tips of his lusting fingers, lips not too far behind. It’s all Liam can do to try to devour Jordan, like this won’t happen again, like this is the last time he’s gonna see all of Jordan’s naked skin, feel it underneath the expanse of his greedy palms.

“Yeah?” Jordan answers, a soft groan dripping from his sweat-salty lips as Liam pulls back to kiss him, lick into that sinful mouth and swallow the rest of his noises, store them in the empty spaces of his ribs so Liam can echo them later.

“Always, but I’ve been waiting all day for you to come home. Fucked myself enough times waiting for you. Nothing ever makes me feel like you do, though, Daddy,” Liam says against Jordan’s mouth, licking his tongue over the rawness of Jordan’s bottom lip.

“Oh, like that, baby? You gonna be a good boy for me, then?” Jordan counters, hands quick to strip Liam of his own shirt, and drag his fingertips down Liam’s chest and tummy, dip his fingers into the waistband of Liam’s pants. And Liam’s been half hard since about noon, trying his damnedest not to go off and wank of the thought of Jordan fucking into him again; he’s been on edge, and he’s just ready to get on his hands and knees for Jordan, witness the strength of Jordan’s hips as they smack into his ass, listen to his coarse voice as Jordan calls him a good boy. Ultimately, that’s what it comes down to, Jordan and his cock, coaxing that drugging feeling of Liam’s orgasm from the heat of his body.

“’M always a good boy for you, Jordan,” Liam says with a sweet little moan, dragging his hips over Jordan’s cock where Liam can feel it, hot and hard, even through the fabric of Jordan’s jeans. Liam can actually feel his own mouth water for it, wanting to get his tongue against the head, feel it blurt generous, fat drops of precome.

There’s a soft pause, just a moment, and then Jordan takes Liam’s chin in his hand and Liam’s forced to look at Jordan, forced to look at those dark eyes, even darker with the headiness of lust, the way control seeps through Jordan’s limbs and makes Liam feel like this; weightless and loose and ready to do whatever Jordan wants him to.

“You’re mouthy tonight, baby.” It’s just a statement, but Jordan’s voice sounds dangerous, lethal almost and Liam shivers from it, ready to be thrown down on the bed, and have Jordan’s hand smack down on his ass. He’s so ready for it, but he whimpers instead, whines for Jordan to touch him. Because it’s got to be a record for how hard Liam is in just this tiny amount of time, but he just wants it so badly, Jordan’s hands and his body and his cock and his mouth. Just wants it too badly.

“Get on the bed,” Jordan says, fingers dropping from Liam’s jaw to touch his palm right against his throat for a moment, just a split second, and even then, it makes Liam dizzy with the thought of Jordan’s big hand around his neck, making the decision as to whether Liam gets to breathe or not.

Liam loves his bedroom; it’s an idle thought muddling through the cloudy lust, but there was the narcissistic choice he made to set a mirror just off to the side of the bed. Liam throws his eyes towards it, watches through it the way Jordan smacks his hand over his ass, watches the way his back arches and his hips jerk forward.

“C’mon, Liam. Don’t make me ask twice.”

The command in Jordan’s voice makes Liam stand from Jordan’s lap, regretfully, really, because he liked his place there, sitting on the hardness of Jordan’s cock, with Jordan’s hand on his flesh. Liam knows better than to disobey, especially now, when he’s so hard up for it, and Jordan will use that to his advantage, fuck Liam a few times before he even lets Liam come.

(Yet, when the thought crosses Liam’s mind, the thought of being used up by Jordan before he’s even allowed to come, he knows it’s best like that. Instant gratification is only good for a few moments, but when he’s high strung, spilling stripes of come with tears in his eyes—nothing comes close to that feeling, that loose feeling in his bones where he disappears into the haziness in his mind, blanks for a few moments, until Jordan and the sweetness of his lips are bringing him back.)

“Undress,” Jordan demands, and Liam doesn’t slight Jordan’s request. In fact, he does undress, slowly; not that there’s much to undress from. It’s just his jeans left, his briefs, and still, Liam’s lazy about it, lowering the zipper of his jeans and letting them fall to the ground and stepping out of them, except he moves and there’s a shock of _God, yes_ that sparks up his back and squeezes around his heart when he shuffles too fast and the glass plug nudges inside of him. There’s excitement, the purity of the anticipation he knows is going to ride him until Liam gets what he wants. He shoves off his underwear, too, presents his body in a way that has Jordan’s eyes flitting from body part to body part, settling on Liam’s cock where it hangs low, dripping at the tip with how hard he is. There’s an ache that sits right in his belly, low and hot and Liam just wants Jordan to be rough with him, fuck him until he can’t breathe, until he’s coming so hard he can’t see.

“Hands and knees,” Jordan says, and his voice is considerably lower, the echo of it rattling through Liam’s bones, burning through his veins. Liam does as he’s asked, climbing on the bed and settling on his hands and knees, looking down at the messy bed sheets he neglected to make up earlier. No point, see, when they’re going to mess them up.

There’s shuffling behind him, and through the mirror, Liam ignores the length of his own body, the gold of his own skin in the dim sunlight, the red of the blush covering his cheeks to watch Jordan undress too; there are the lines of his body, the muscles, the visible strength that Liam can see as Jordan moves. Kicking off his shoes and socks; the muscles of his shoulders flexing as he unbuckles his belt, then undoes the button and zipper of his jeans, shucking them off. When he’s naked, it’s just Jordan and the rich color of his skin, the dark red of his cock, so big and thick and there’s that salivating feeling in Liam’s mouth, the craving to taste it, to stay still as Jordan fucks his mouth and hits the back of his throat, eases his dick down into Liam’s mouth so Liam can’t breathe from it, so there are tears sitting on the water lines of his eyes and his throat is raw and he can’t talk. He’d give his voice to Jordan if that’s what Jordan wanted.

“Daddy, please,” Liam says, because he can’t wait, because he just wants, so badly, for Jordan to be touching him again.

“Be patient, baby. You’re gonna get what you want, aren’t you?”

Liam closes his eyes and tries to suck in a breath, knows better than to get a hand around himself, but he feels like he’s rutting against air, like he just needs to have Jordan’s hands on his body.

The bed dips behind Liam and he feels the air in the room still, like it’s caught in his lungs and—

“What’s this?”

Liam feels the drag of Jordan’s fingers down his spine and Liam’s trembling; nothing’s happened, but Liam knows what Jordan’s referring to, especially when he feels Jordan press the glass plug in, like it can go any deeper and Liam’s arms buckle down and he’s on his elbows, face in the sheets because he should be better at containing himself, but he moans out anyway, a tiny little breathless, “Fuck.”

“You got yourself ready for me?” Jordan asks, and there’s a smug cadence in Jordan’s words, like he’s surprised but not, like he expects this kind of behavior from Liam. “Just got yourself all open and wet for me, didn’t you? So I can come home and fuck you.”

In the mirror, Liam watches Jordan press his mouth against the bottom of his spine and Liam can’t help but arch his back, curve it so he’s presenting his ass, so Jordan will get the idea that Liam needs his tongue.

“You’re such a good boy, Liam, d’you know that? I get to come home and you’re all open like this, just waiting for my dick, huh? Can’t even wait for me to do it for you, huh? Just so desperate that you had to go and plug yourself up so you’d be all ready.” Jordan pulls on the plug, slowly, and Liam can’t help the breathy noises, the way the pleasure spikes up and spreads, just eviscerates all feeling but euphoria from Liam’s body. It’s so sweet, to taste the beginnings of their sex, the way Jordan’s still so careful, even with that dirty mouth.

With the plug removed, Jordan has all his attention on Liam, dipping two of his fingers into Liam’s hole, pressing in deep and Liam calls out, moans, and the noise bounces off the walls. Liam watches through the mirror, as Jordan kneels behind him, fingers inside of Liam, curved so deliciously Liam pushes back against them.

The smack comes before Liam can even register Jordan moving in the mirror. Liam whines at it, pushes his ass back against before he can regain control of his limbs.

“Patience, Liam. God, you want it bad, don’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy, please,” Liam whines, and Jordan soothes his palm over Liam’s ass where it’s surely red; Liam can’t see from this angle, but he knows it, can feel the burn, even as Jordan smacks his hand down again, and Liam’s grunting, fingers gripping into the sheets.

“What do you want, baby? Just want me to fuck you?” Jordan asks, voice insanely sweet as he curves his fingers again, pressing against that spot hard, deliberate, and Liam’s keening, breathing hard already, just from a little bit of fingering, can’t even keep his eyes on the mirror, not properly, when his cock is dripping with wat, and he keeps pushing his hips back because he wants more.

“Yes, God, please, stop teasing—“

Another smack to his flesh and Liam’s clenching around Jordan’s fingers, wanting to cry when Jordan pulls his fingers.

“Me? Teasing? Think that’s you, baby, huh? You think I’m gonna let you get away with this?”

When Liam opens his eyes again, there’s the image of Jordan’s body against Liam’s back, and there’s the feeling of Jordan grinding his dick against Liam’s hole, the head catching but not pressing in and Liam’s just—

The feeling is too much, too much to feel it but not quite it, like there’s the potential to be filled up with that cock, but it’s not in, not stroking deep yet, and god, it’s all Liam wants, to be fucked down into the mattress because he hasn’t been a very good boy has he? Mouthy and teasing, but Jordan loves it, and Liam knows. Which is why Liam should be filled up right now, why Liam should be getting the dicking of his life, why Liam should feel his thighs shaking from the force of Jordan’s thrusts.

“You want it, baby? Want my cock in you?” Jordan asks, his voice teasing, and Liam watches through the mirror, the way Jordan’s dark hands venture up the expanse of his gold skin, right up to the planes of Liam’s shoulder blades, where Jordan has to press his body against the length of Liam’s so Jordan’s pushing Liam down into the bed.

All Liam can do is nod.

“I wanna hear you, Liam. Can you beg for it? Do you want it that bad? Wanna have your pretty pink hole stretched all around my dick, covered with my come when I’m done with you?” 

Liam groans, vibrates with it, almost wants to get out from of Jordan’s hold, but there’s no way when Jordan’s powerful, a show of strength in his arms that Liam can watch, flexing underneath Jordan’s skin through the glass of the mirror.

But yes, if begging is what Jordan wants, Liam can do that. Has done it before, because it’s just how he feels, with the heat fucking around in his veins, burning and subsiding only to ignite again when Liam breathes out, “Daddy, please, want your dick, want you to fuck me, fill me up, want it so _bad_.”

Jordan hears it, Liam knows he does, but he takes his time, says, “I want you to watch yourself get fucked, ‘kay, baby? You’re gonna watch yourself beg for me to let you come. You’re gonna beg for me to get real deep inside you, watch me spank you, okay?”

Quickly nodding, Liam agrees, settles his eyes on the mirror, on himself, the vision of flesh and against flesh, the way his skin turns pink with desire, the way his back is curved; his eyes settle on the way Jordan presses him down into the bed, the way he lines himself up with a hand, before pushing in and Liam truly feels all his breath evaporate from his lungs.

Swear to god, Liam could write entire songs about this feeling right here, the slow, agonizing drag of a cock pushing inside of him, settling deep inside of him, wet and big and hot and thick and—Liam swears he can feel it in his throat from the way his airway constricts, from the way sweat gathers all along his skin and nothing’s happened yet. But there’s the sweetness of the feeling, the purity of being so full this way after waiting for so long. Pathetic almost; he’s gone longer without this, without Jordan’s body, but today, god, he can’t help but feel the tears prickle at his eyes, watching the way Jordan so carefully presses his hips against Liam’s ass.

Could spank for days, Jordan can, but when it comes down to this, the first moment where they’re connected like this, it’s like every time, a slow stroke in until Jordan’s bottomed out and Liam can feel Jordan’s balls against his perineum.

It lasts for an eternity, it does, just this timeless moment where all the air is rushed back into Liam’s lungs and he can suddenly breathe again. In reality, it only lasts for a few seconds, until Liam’s pushing his hips back again, and Jordan takes that as a sign to go for it, to fuck him like he says he will.

And God, does he. Liam watches it all through the mirror, watches the way Jordan fucks in deep, hips pushing against Liam’s ass hard enough that it jolts Liam and Liam has to find leverage against the bed, but he isn’t going anywhere, not with Jordan’s hand strong between his shoulder blades, keeping him down.

“ _Fuck,_ so good,” Liam whines, because it’s all he can do, let, “Daddy,” drip from his mouth, while Jordan spanks him again, then uses that same lethal hand to grip at Liam’s hip, still him so Jordan can just drive his cock inside of Liam, shallow strokes and then slow and deep, an ever-changing rhythm that has the tears steady in Liam’s eyes, squeezing around the thick of Jordan’s cock as it fucks Liam open and loose and—

“Harder, Daddy, please,” Liam whispers, because his throat is too dry, raw, and Liam’s still watching, eyes fixed on Jordan’s ass and the way it tenses when his hips thrust forward. And even though Liam asked for it harder, Jordan slows, until it’s just the sweetly gentle undulation of his canting hips, just the soft wave flushing over Liam.

“Yeah, Princess? This isn’t enough for you?” Jordan questions, and Liam knows his response will earn him a spanking, but he can’t help but push up against Jordan’s hand on his back so he can brace himself on the palms of his hands.

“No,” Liam says, and just like Liam expects, Jordan smacks his ass, but he knows Jordan, that competitiveness that must be thrumming through him when Liam displays defiant behavior. Jordan grips both sides of Liam’s hips, long fingers gripping to bruise, such a sweet bout of pain that has Liam’s toes curling, his knees rubbing raw against the bedsheets as Jordan fucks him wildly, with forceful thrusts of his hips, cock so deep Liam feels like he’s choking on it, and one glance to the mirror has Liam’s arms buckling again; he wants to come so badly feels it pooling in his balls with the way they draw up tight and it’s right there, riding his spine, but he can’t he knows he can’t not until Jordan says he can.

“You wanna come, baby? Huh, Li?” Jordan grunts, and Liam barely hears him through the wet, slick sound of Jordan’s cock fucking him so thoroughly, or the headboard knocking belligerently against the wall, the soft little whining noises Liam makes that he didn’t quiet notice before, but Liam’s nodding his head, pleading for it.

“Yes, Daddy, please can I come, please?”

“Only good boys get to come, and you haven’t been very good, have you, Liam?” Jordan says, and his voice claws over Liam’s skin and Liam can only fall submissive, relax his body, be good for Jordan so he can break and shatter and cry at how good it feels to have Jordan riding his ass like this, his fingers gripping at his hips.

“Please, Daddy, I can be good for you, please,” Liam begs, the tears still in his eyes again, cheeks flushed when he looks at himself, how messy and desperate he looks for Jordan to fill him up with his come, how his body is shaking and he can’t do anything but wait for Jordan to say it’s okay, wait for Jordan to allow him to spill the streams of come he won’t be able to hold back for much longer.

But Jordan is good to him, always so, good, and Liam watches Jordan drape his body over Liam’s back, watches the way Jordan takes Liam’s leaking cock into his hand and strokes him off, just a few simple tugs and, “Come on, Princess. You gonna come for Daddy?”

Of course he is; Liam can’t help it, not when Jordan’s big hand is tugging at his dick and he’s still fucking Liam so hard, God, he comes and it’s beautiful, a feeling that ignites his skin and has him crying out Jordan’s name with all the breath he can manage, spilling hot streaks of come onto the bed, gripping the sheets and shutting his eyes because he can’t look at himself take it like this anymore, not even when Jordan fucks him into oversensitivity and he feels the wet of Jordan’s come fill him up as Jordan fucks it into him. Liam slumps forward, can't even think coherently, just works diligently on getting air into his lungs. He feels Jordan pull out of him and Liam's wobbly on his legs, but with it comes the wetness of Jordan's come, trickling down the back of Liam's thigh.

There are little things that break through the softness of Liam's post orgasm haze; Jordan's hands are the main feature, big but gentle, adjusting Liam's body on the bed, laying him flat so he's lying on the bed against the pillows; touching him, soft fingertips over his chest and his neck, over the heat of his cheeks and the dryness of his lips. Liam goes where Jordan takes him, his body pliant and malleable under the gentle display of strength Jordan shows. Liam can't focus his eyes properly to look at Jordan above him, but he registers Jordan's voice, breaking through whatever this is, this weightless feeling like he's made of the same molecules he's breathing in. 

Reaching up with his arms, he tugs Jordan to him, grips over Jordan's strong shoulders, like he needs something to hold onto, like if Jordan isn't there on top of him he might float away, and there's nowhere he wants to be but with Jordan and his soft mouth at Liam's temple, the gentle whispers Liam can't really hear but can feel vibrate over his skin and sink inside of him until they settle in the marrow of Liam's bones. 

Blinking his eyes, Liam shakes away the feeling of being lost in his head, of having succumbed to this pleasure so intense, it takes him away from his body, but Jordan is coaxing him out of it, holding him close, lips so soft Liam's crying from it. He can feel the tears slip down wet across his cheeks. 

"Baby, baby, it's okay. You're here with me, it's okay," Jordan murmurs, his voice sweet, gentle, and Liam curls into Jordan, rests his head on Jordan's shoulder when Jordan fixes both of their bodies so Liam's comfortable against him. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Liam whispers against Jordan's chest; his voice sounds too loud in the quiet of the room, where the sun setting serves as a backdrop to their afterglow, making Jordan's rich skin color even more beautiful. Liam sets his palm flat over Jordan's collarbone. 

"What are you sorry for? There's nothing to be sorry for, babe," Jordan says. Liam shakes his head. 

"No, I was bad. I'm supposed to be a good boy for you," Liam counters, but the thrumming inside of him skin, the best of his heart, and Jordan's, tells him otherwise. So do Jordan's words. 

"Baby, no, I promise you were so good for me. Such a good boy I can't believe how good you are for me. You were such a sweet boy, don't worry. I love you, okay? Love me back?"

Liam nods; that's not even something that should be questioned. He loves Jordan with every fiber of his being, can't understand that there was a time where he wasn't in love with Jordan and his deep brown eyes and lips like sin that wrap around the sweetest words Liam's ever heard. 

"Yeah, yeah, love you back," Liam says quickly, but Jordan laughs and rubs his hand over the skin of Liam's back until he rests his palm against the bottom of Liam's spine, just above the swell of his ass. He hurts all over, but it's the good kind, the reckless kind that makes his heart race and his breath quicken and his body thrum with that anticipation even though nothing's happening but the two of them lying in a hazy bliss. 

Liam falls asleep, in the midst of it all, knowing he should have a shower, and so should Jordan, but it can wait until later when this right here, the moment between sleep and wakefulness, where Jordan's, "I love you so much," is whispered with such reverence, tattooed into his skin so he'll know the feeling of being well loved for just about forever.

Yes, Liam is very lucky.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! [tumblr.](http://liamthirst.tumblr.com/)


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